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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, given that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, especially if the man I was opting for chosen me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me getting into a weird cars and truck, a different odd car each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the pointers that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to really like these men for an hour or two. I needed to act younger often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a girl, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and live with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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